


Teeth

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Established Relationship, Everyone's just a little feral in this, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Scratching, Sort of shifter verse, These boys are just really possessive of each other, it's sort of mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 13:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21357259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Ritter loves to mark him up.He’s happiest with Matt pinned underneath him, surrounded by sleep warm blankets that smell of them, the collar of his shirt pulled down, or just completely gone, thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind, leaving the long, pale column of his throat exposed.The guys chirp the hell out of them but Matt wears them like a badge of honor; let Ritter mark him up, let the world know that Matt belongs to him, and Ritter to him.
Relationships: David Rittich/Matthew Tkachuk
Comments: 2
Kudos: 163





	Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> So this was kind of inspired by the game against the Coyotes, which was insane by the way, and the hug we got at the end when Chucky scored the OT goal. It was like a mass of Flames and Chucky and Ritter found each other unerringly, and there was some hugs with face pressed to neck and whatnot and this was born.   
I'm still kind of half awake at work so hopefully it makes sense. Unbeta'd so mistakes are my own!

Ritter loves to mark him up. 

He’s happiest with Matt pinned underneath him, surrounded by sleep warm blankets that smell of them, the collar of his shirt pulled down, or just completely gone, thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind, leaving the long, pale column of his throat exposed. 

Matt can’t even say it’s the first time he’s woken up like this, Ritter’s lips and teeth pressed to his skin, his weight settled across him, heavy but not uncomfortable. He lets out happy, possessive rumbles that never fail to get Matt going.

The guys chirp the hell out of them but Matt wears them like a badge of honor; let Ritter mark him up, let the world know that Matt belongs to him, and Ritter to him. 

He gets little red love bites where Ritter briefly presses his teeth in the junction of his shoulder and neck, the sting brief and electric. He gets dark bruises, purples and blues and blacks along their mating bite where Ritter sucks the marks into his skin, spending an age on each one until the skin is sore and buzzing and Matt is shifting restlessly, hips rolling, searching for friction. He gets bites along the nape of his neck, under his hairline, as Ritter sinks his teeth in, just shy of drawing blood. Ritter pins him in place, teeth biting, body pressing him into the mattress. Matt doesn’t go limp right away and Ritter shakes him with his hold like he’s a troublesome cub and not someone he’s spent the past half hour teasing until his cock is hard and leaking steadily against the sheets. 

Matt stands in front of the mirror most mornings, fingers pressed against the bruises and bites, feeling the little thrills from the sting, remembering Ritter’s single minded focus as he left them on his skin. There are days he’s careful not to let Ritter spot him, days where they have to get to the rink or coach will bench them for being late again. Other days he waits for the familiar sounds of Ritter moving around in their bedroom, stripped down to just his boxers in front of the mirror. He keeps the door cracked open, an invitation for Ritter to join him, and knows Ritter’s spotted him by the sharp inhale as Matt trails his fingers along the latest marks.

Matt isn’t ashamed to use it to his advantage.

He gets his own revenge, of course. Ritter has Matt’s mating mark on his neck, displays it proudly much to Matt’s pleasure. He isn’t into biting the way Ritter is though, is happy being marked up but he leaves his own in other ways.

His nails are short, chipped from sports, and they leave vivid red marks down Ritter’s back as he fucks into Matt in short, brutal thrusts. Ritter hisses as Matt leaves scores along his shoulders, his chest, and down his stomach. He rakes them along his inner thighs watching the way his cock jumps and precome gathers at the tip. He alternates between quick, vicious passes and long, drawn out paths from armpit to hip bone and across. Ritter’s chest is an angry, painful red by the time Matt’s satisfied and he’s breathing heavily, brown eyes clouded with arousal and cock straining against his stomach. 

They call up one of the young defensemen from the Stockton Heat for a game against the Preds, cocky and brash and vain. 

“Fuck, he’s feisty.” He gets an eyeful of the marks Matt’s left on Ritter in the locker room after the game, whistling in appreciation. He glances Matt over, gaze lingering on the bruises and bites along his neck. “Bet he’s a real bitch in bed !”

“That’s enough!” Gio snaps, a flash of a fang enough to silence him, at least until Gio’s been drawn away.

“What, are you fucking the Captain too?” He swaggers over to Matt, a leer on his face. He’s big and broad but Matt’s no slouch and he’s never backed down from a challenge and he holds his ground, mouth twisted into a snarl. “You just give it up to any body? Is that it? The team bitch?” 

Matt breaks his nose. 

Ritter, a beat behind, has him pinned to the wall by the scruff of his neck as he yowls through the blood pouring down his face. 

“What the fuck happened?” Peters demands, drawn over by the noise. He eyes the young defenceman leaving bloody marks against the locker room wall, and then the pair with a feral glint in their gaze. He scrubs a hand over his face. Matt shakes out his fist with a sharp grin. “The two of you- my office. And you, go see the team medic. You’re getting blood everywhere.”

The defenceman doesn’t get to see a second game with the Flames. 

That night Ritter presses Matt down into the mattress, sucking dark, stinging bruises down his chest, into the pale skin of his hips, into the sensitive skin of his thigh until Matt is cursing, hands buried in Ritter’s hair, urging him closer to where he’s aching.

Ritter ignores his cock to his great displeasure, shifts Matt’s legs onto his shoulders and tilts his hips high enough to get where he’s seeking. He noses behind his balls, along his taint, breathing him in. Matt’s body is strung tight like a bow, legs jerking with every soft touch, cock so hard it hurts. All it would take is a hand around himself, just a little relief, but he knows better than to touch himself. 

Ritter rewards him for his patience, sealing his lips over Matt’s hole and sucking like he’s trying to leave his mark there as well. Matt shudders, hands flying to his own curls, tugging sharply as he tries to ground himself. His mouth falls open, a litany of breathless praise falling from his lips as he rolls his hips as best he can, fucking himself on Ritters mouth.

Ritter alternates between wet, open mouthed kisses and broad swipes of his tongue. He licks inside as best he can, spit sliding down Matt’s ass leaving him feeling open and wet. Matt’s skin feels overly sensitive from Ritter’s beard. He wants to press his fingers to the raw skin, feel the burn for days after, wants Ritter to watch him as he trails his fingers over the reddened skin, eyes half lidded and expression hungry.

It’s still a little dry, a little tight, when Ritter slides a thick, long finger in, unerringly searching out that spot in Matt that lights him up like a firework. He fucks into Matt, slow and deep, leaning back enough so that he can see the flush that covers him from cheeks down past his chest, can see the way he grabs at his hair, the pillows, eyes glazed over with pleasure and mouth hanging open. 

He sinks his teeth into the meat of Matt’s ass, relishing the curses and moans it draws. He stops just before he draws blood, leaving a perfect imprint of his teeth on Matt’s skin. It’s going to bruise, turn shades of purples and yellows and greens, and ache for days, a mark Matt won’t be able to forget about, hyper aware of that throb whenever he sits down. 

Ritter seals his lips around the head of Matt’s cock, lapping hungrily at the precome leaking steadily and Matt comes with a shout, body folding in half. The clench of his ass around Ritter’s finger is obscene, trying to pull him deeper and Ritter groans, thinking about that vice grip around his cock. He rubs off against the sheets with the taste of Matt’s come in his mouth and his finger still buried in Matt’s ass. 

Matt waits for him to crawl back up the bed, both of them a little come dumb, tugging him into his arms. He nudges Ritter’s head back, pressing kisses along his mating bite, teasingly biting along the year old mark until Ritter’s drifting, caught somewhere between awake and sleep.

Sharp, burning pain bursts along his stomach and he’s forcefully brought back to the present and to Matt’s smirking face. 

“Sorry, were you trying to sleep, old man?”

Ritter’s growl can’t cover up his howl of laughter as he tackles Matt to the sheets, pinning him in place with his teeth. 


End file.
